Jump Into the Fog

I've Made Some Bad Decisions

Jump Into the Fog

Chapter 15

"I've made some bad decisions, I'll admit that freely."

~

If Hans actually got his way here he would have thrown a celebration for Elsa so large it would have later gone down as a national holiday in Arendelle. She never actually had anyone to celebrate with, she confessed, until now.

They were on the same boat, then—Hans' birthdays, for the most part, went unnoticed as well. His mother would kiss his forehead and say the words, his father would ruffle his hair, and his brothers would pinch and tease him, making the whole ordeal miserable.

So when Elsa declared her birthday was coming up, of course Hans wanted to throw a party, to make up for the years they both spent alone, disregarded, dejected as they only grew older. Birthdays should signify life, happiness, fun. Birthdays should be wonderful, something to look forward to, not something to dread.

But no, Elsa gently explained. She wasn't going to make a public spectacle out of her birthday, and she wasn't hearing him out on any of his suggestions. She just wanted a day off from duties, a day to just relax and have Hans close.

And in the end, Hans relented, because of her condition.

She was pregnant; he had to accept that she wanted to be left alone because of all the emotional baggage that came with her state. And of course Hans understood this on a contextual level; he was well read as a royal, after all.

He'd never really experienced what it was really like to be with someone like that, though… which was why he had to keep treating her with even more respect than before.

Not that that was hard; all Hans had to do was compliment her, compliment her body, compliment her voice, and she was putty in his hands. Something for him to mold and shape into his perfect queen, this woman who would throw herself to save him.

It was exactly what he waned… yet he started to get bored of her. He couldn't help it; her devotion wasn't fun. It was fun teasing her, making her blush, seeing just how it got to her when she opened up to him. There was inner turmoil in their relationship—Hans almost thought of it as a game as he tried to woo Elsa into his arms. Nowadays she was too comfortable with him, knew just how to get around him.

If she wasn't so goddamned sexy and important he definitely would have considered taking on mistresses.

But no, he had to still bed her a few times a week, because he needed the results. He needed to be above everyone, no matter the cost, and he needed everyone to see just how successful and powerful he'd become in such a short amount of time. His brothers had to see it to believe it, and once they did, they seemed to have a begrudging respect for him. The people of Arendelle absolutely adored him; his wide named him her equal so easily.

He'd broken the mold. No longer was he the "unlucky" thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles. Now he was a king, the King of Arendelle, in fact. He had an incredibly beautiful, talented, powerful wife, everything in his hands to take and mold to his every whim.

And he was bored as hell.

The people looked to him like he could solve all their problems—namely the winter—and all he could do was try and talk to them. He heard their problems, handed out supplies and cloaks and firewood and matches, and no one saw him as terrible; he couldn't believe he was seen as beloved when he was married to the Snow Queen.